


Blue Christmas

by chooken



Category: Westlife
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Eve, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Frottage, Love Confessions, Lovers to Friends, M/M, Masturbation, Past Relationship(s), Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 09:26:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2807591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chooken/pseuds/chooken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark's Christmas party should be fun. Nicky is madly in love. Mark is oblivious.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Christmas

Christmas was in the air. Snow flurried in powdered flakes, blinking against the flickering of candles and overdone Christmas lights that splashed the snow with colour. Plastic Santas and reindeer stood merrily on white lawns, listening to the carollers wandering the streets to the rhythm of the bells, their festive smiles covered by layers upon layers of wool, protecting them against the blistering chill.

Inside it was warm and toasty, the roaring fire making the well-lit rooms seem that much brighter as people laughed and sang, enjoying yet another chance to eat, drink, and have random sex with strangers. Presents piled themselves precariously under meticulously decorated trees, shiny wrapping paper draped in fallen pine needles. It seemed as if everyone in the world was celebrating.

Except for Nicky.

It felt as though a bubble surrounded him, deflecting all the colour and song and warmth, until he was left grey, silent, and cold, a dejected frown painting his face as he stared into the crackling flames piled high as the party raged around him. Someone fell over a chair, resulting in raucous laughter as the victim dusted himself off sheepishly. Someone began singing Silent Night loudly and tunelessly as other drunkards gathered with misty eyes and festive hearts. Mark grinned, dodging guests as he pushed out of the kitchen with a huge tray of food.

“Celery stick?”

“Er... no thanks.” Nicky smiled back halfheartedly. Mark shrugged and moved on, placing the tray amidst a game of charades that had just set up before returning to the kitchen, dusting his hands importantly as he went. Staring back into the flames, Nicky sighed, ignoring the party hat that had just been sat on his head. The couch rolled beneath him, and he looked up at Kian, who was smiling from under a jauntily tipped hat.

“Hello Nix.”

“Hey.” Nicky sighed, not trying to sound festive. Because he just didn’t feel it, and nobody could pick up a lie like Kian, as self-absorbed as the younger boy could be sometimes. Kian kept smiling, but it softened around the edges, and Nicky looked away, not wanting to see the pity.

“How are you anyway?”

“I’m okay.” Nicky replied, watching a knot burst and crackle with the heat. “You?”

“I’m good.” Kian reached around, turning Nicky’s face back towards him with his index finger. “Here, your hat’s falling off.” Nicky sat still while Kian replaced it, carefully stretching the elastic band under his chin. It felt as though it was choking him, but he didn’t say anything, just looked down at Kian’s knees, trying to escape the curious summer-blue staring back at him. “There you go.” Kian patted his knee. “Oh, c’mon Nix, you look like someone’s ran over your dog. Hurry up and smile before I smack you one.”

“I don’t have a dog.” Nicky said without thinking, feeling a smile quirk at his lips when Kian’s head twisted down into his line of sight, the smaller boy’s chin almost on his knees as he looked up mirthfully.

“Well then bloody well get one. Maybe then you’ll look as if you have a friend. Even if you can’t find one out of the twenty million people Mark’s invited round.”

“I...” Nicky shook his head. “I’m fine. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried. But that girl in the corner is and I thought I best save you before she tries something on.” He looked over to where a pretty redhead stood, seeing her perk up and wave as she saw Kian’s glance. Kian pursed his lips. “I don’t even know her, actually. Do you?”

“No. Someone’s cousin’s friend’s brother’s ex-girlfriend or something, I expect.” Nicky shrugged. “Do you think Mark even knows everyone here?”

“No idea. Probably just wandered in off the street, most of them. Saw the lights and the big house and...” Kian trailed off with a shrug. “Look, I’m off to find Shane. I’ll see you round. Possibly when I’m sober...”

“... and possibly not?” Nicky laughed, making Kian grin.

“Exactly.” Kian fixed Nicky’s hat again, making the elastic catch on the day’s stubble growth and pricking at Nicky’s skin. He yelped, and Kian smiled apologetically. “Oops. See you, Nix. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Ki.” Nicky murmured, watching Kian move across the room and into the hall, bouncing off walls occasionally as he went. He shook his head and turned away, starting when he came to face with someone’s crotch.

“Cracker?”

His favourite crotch, in fact. Not that he’d ever seen it close up, and without clothes, but he still loved it dearly, and would quite like to get to know it more intimately. He looked up, face softening as he stared into twinkling blue eyes, shining with Christmas spirit, and utterly kissable lips that curved into a welcoming smile.

“I like your hat.” Mark said, a laugh in his voice as Nicky scooped up some onion dip. “Kian get round to you? He’s been handing them out like flyers or something.”

“A bit like you with the food?”

“Well.” Mark shrugged bashfully. “You didn’t want a celery stick so I thought you might like a biscuit. Not a health nut, you.”

“Is anybody?”

Mark chewed on the inside of his cheek, glancing about the room and giving Nicky a lovely view of the tiny flash of skin that peeked between shirt and jeans when Mark twisted.

“Dunno, to be honest. I don’t think I know about half of them.”

“You didn’t invite them?”

“No, guess they just showed up. I hope they don’t get anything on the carpet, it’s new.”

“Yeah, because the people you know don’t normally spill things. Just those strangers.”

“Oh shut up.” Mark waved his free hand at Nicky, hefting the plate of crackers and dip. “Look, I’m moving on. Got people to serve. I’m really getting into this host lark, it’s good fun. Haven’t spoken to so many people at once in... well, ever.” Mark smiled shyly, and Nicky’s heart did a little leap at the dimples flashing in the corners of his mouth. “Just give me a shout if you want anything.”

“Thanks Marky.” Nicky nodded, and with a grin Mark was off again, leaving Nicky looking fondly at the rather appealing bum swinging away from him. It really was quite gorgeous. Just like the rest of him, really. Crotch, dimples, arms, thighs, chest, belly... god Mark had the most delicious belly. Hours had been spent fantasising about that. Running his tongue down it, tasting the pure flavour of Mark’s navel, following the sprinkling of hair down until...

Nicky honestly didn’t know when it had happened. It hadn’t been some sudden flash of lightning, and yet it had. He’d always liked Mark. The younger man had been a source of friendship and comfort for years. A strong shoulder to cry on, fantastic for a laugh, great to get drunk with, able to have a serious conversation at the drop of a hat, and yet Nicky had never thought of him _that_ way. Sure, he’d appreciated that Mark was fairly attractive, in an average kind of way. He wasn’t exactly slim, and his teeth were enormous. And yeah, he never bloody shaved, and was prone to hideous changes of hair style at the most inappropriate times (like when they were about to go out in public), but he was tall and he had a genuine smile and big blue eyes that you could just drown in.

Okay, so maybe Nicky had been more than appreciative of Mark’s looks, but that wasn’t the same. That didn’t _mean_ anything. That was just lust, approval. Not the same as sitting there, reading a magazine, and then Mark just walking in the door, nothing special, and sitting down across the other side of the room. Draping himself into a chair, as he usually did, with a fairly decent haircut this time, legs spread in front as he flicked on the TV and began to surf. Approval wasn’t Nicky watching him do that, while something in the back of his mind whispered ‘home’. He’d gone all warm and glowy then, and the feeling had scared him so much that he’d had to leave the room.

It wasn’t something that happened to normal people. And it definitely wasn’t something that would ever happen to Mark.

He looked up to watch Mark cross the room, feeling the familiar sick fluttering of butterflies fill his stomach when Mark smiled at someone, imperfect teeth displayed to full perfection. Once Nicky had thought of them as horse-teeth. Now he just wanted to run his tongue along them.

“Fawning, Nix?” The words came from over his shoulder, and he jerked up to see Shane leaning across the back of the couch, a gentle smile on his lips. Nicky sighed.

“Fuck off.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Nicky scowled as Shane came to sit next to him with a heavy weight that made the couch seat roll, and hitched his shoulder away from Shane’s careful touch.

“Nicky...”

“It isn’t fair.”

“I know.” Shane murmured, and this time Nicky accepted the weight of Shane’s hand on his shoulder, feeling it enclose his heart and squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

“S’not your fault.” Nicky shrugged, turning sorrowful eyes on his friend. “I’m sorry, I’m just...”

“Getting quietly and miserably drunk?”

“That too.” Nicky nodded, picking up the flattening beer from the coffee table. He hadn’t touched it in a good half hour, and it fizzed warm and weak under his tongue until he had to put it down out of sheer revulsion.

“Here, have some of mine.” Shane pressed it into his hands, the condensation soaking them immediately, and Nicky smiled gratefully over the cool lip of the glass. He swallowed, letting the icy coldness numb the bitter taste, and then put it into his lap. He looked at it for a moment and then, at Shane’s tentative smile, took another big swallow, coughing slightly as he handed it back.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Shane put the beer down on the table. “You know, if you’re in that kind of mood, Mark’s gonna be alone tonight and I don’t think he’d mind if maybe you...”

“I’m not. In that kind of mood, I mean.” Nicky shook his head at the sickeningly helpful stare he was getting. Maybe once, yes, he would’ve taken advantage of the available opportunity. Mark probably wouldn’t be averse, they all messed around like that on occasion (he knew Shane and Kian had been not-so-secret occasional fuck-buddies for at least six months now), but he didn’t think his heart could stand the thought of it. One night was nothing compared to a lifetime, and Nicky could only settle for the latter. He loved Mark too much.

When he looked up from his hands, Shane was staring at him with something in his eyes that Nicky couldn’t place. It was dreamy, almost. Wistful. A softening around the edges.

“You really do, don’t you? Love him.”

Nicky nodded. “I think so. Yes.”

“You know so.” Nicky nodded, resting his cheek in his hand and looking sideways over his fingers. Shane nodded slowly, his gaze flickering slightly as something crashed in the corner, and a group gathered to laugh at the hapless individual. “Did you ever feel that way about me?”

Nicky sighed around the sudden painful lump filling his throat. Shutting his eyes, he shook his head, more to himself then to Shane. This really wasn’t something he wanted to think about. There was too much history there, too much hurt. Nicky had buried it, stomped the dirt flat and left it behind without a backward glance; but the dead didn’t always die as they should, no matter how much you might what them to. Shane knew that. Nicky saw it his eyes, sometimes.

“Shay...”

Shane’s hand covered his before he could finish, and Nicky looked up into kind hazel eyes that smiled sadly at him.

“I know.”

Nicky shook his head, trying to loosen the dormant feelings crashing over him. “I really wish I could’ve, Shay. But we’re better like this. You know we are. It never would’ve worked. I... I needed to get out before we started hating each other. Before...”

“I know.” The pressure increased on his hand, and Nicky looked up to see Mark stride cautiously over to the site of the crash, face expectant and wary. His face slackened when he realised it hadn’t been something too expensive, and Nicky found himself laughing as the onlookers ducked away, one whistling innocently, hands clasped behind his back. Mark sighed and shook his head, anxious frown lines softening between his eyebrows, and turned back to the kitchen. Nicky felt himself glow.

Shane had watched the whole thing, apparently, because when Nicky turned back, it was into a smiling hazel stare that, at one time, had kept him awake, hot and sweaty and out of control. Now though, he just felt warm, safe, loved. A tiny longing smile quirked at Shane’s lips.

“You two would be really happy together.”

Nicky nodded, understanding the simple difficulty of Shane’s words.

“Who’s to say it wouldn’t be the same thing over again?”

“Me.” Shane’s head tipped slightly to the side, studying him. Nicky stared back, watching lines deepen more than he’d ever seen. Shane’s forehead creased, his eyes were tired, and Nicky didn’t think he’d ever seemed so old. Or maybe he had, and Nicky hadn’t payed enough attention. “Because you love him.”

“I loved you.”

“Not enough. But it was nice to pretend for awhile, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Nicky nodded guiltily, remembered the comforting pleasure of just being held in strong arms, told how much he was loved, how special he was. Remembered being looked at as the most important thing in the world, the only thing. “It was. I never thanked you for that, did I?”

“You didn’t need to. I knew.” Shane squeezed his hand. “It was never pretend for me, you know?”

“I know. And I’m so sorry for that. I really did love you, do love you, it was just...”

“I understood. Understand.” Shane smiled. “Do you think he could love you that much?”

“No.” Nicky shook his head. “He won’t ever love me like that. But I think I could love him. I do. I guess it’s karma, hey? After what I did to you.”

“Oh, don’t think I didn’t enjoy every minute of it.” Shane laughed. “I was what you needed at the time, and I was happy to give that. It was all I wanted.”

“Empty sex and six months of lies?”

“To make you happy.” Shane stood, pulling his hand from Nicky’s and patting his shoulder. “You deserve it, and I hope things work out. I can drop some hints if you like. It’s not as if you’re completely undesirable, and it’s probably better than his own hand. Well, in my experience it is.” Shane chuckled, and Nicky looked up, a smile stretching his face for what felt like the first time in months.

“It’s okay Shay. I don’t do meaningless sex anymore.”

“Yeah. Right.”

“Okay, I don’t do meaningless sex with Mark.”

“Understood.” Shane nodded, ruffling Nicky’s hair. “Kian looks bored, I think I’ll go cheer him up.”

“In the broom cupboard?” Nicky smirked, laughing at the cheeky grimace.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shane winked, and Nicky turned to watch him wander methodically across the room, surreptitiously tapping Kian’s shoulder. The blonde boy perked up immediately, but sat for a few moments before standing too and practically skipping in the direction Shane had gone.

Sighing, Nicky turned back to the fire, feeling a proper sadsack. He was vaguely aware of the fact that some Christmas spirit was probably in order, but he just couldn’t seemed to muster it up this year. Not even Brian falling over a chair and landing on his face, spreadeagled with his arse in the air, could bring a smile to his face, and that was pretty unbelievable. But he just wasn’t in the mood.

“Nicky!” He looked up to see Mark waving him over, and stood up slowly, legs stretching from being in the same seat so long and leather trousers ripping away from the black leather couch with a sucking, tearing noise. He looked edible in these trousers, if he did say so himself, but it would be nice if the person he’d worn them for would notice.

Trying his hardest to look something in the way of sexually alluring, he picked across the mess on the carpet, hips swinging slightly as he went. Catching up, he smiled at Mark, knowing what his own crooked grin did for quite a few people.

“Hey... ehm... I’m sorry Nick but I think I heard someone throwing up behind the tree and I’m too scared to look. You mind...?”

Nicky deflated. “No.” He bit his lip, peering slowly around the authentically plastic pine needles. There was nothing scary that he could see, so he bent lower, peering underneath. “No, it’s fine.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Nicky thought Mark looked slightly flustered, but then he didn’t anymore. It was probably just the reflection of the Christmas lights, and Mark always blushed, so that was nothing new. And it was a bit hot in here. Gorgeous horse-teeth bared, Mark grinned. “Thank god.”

“Yeah.” Nicky laughed, and an awkward silence descended for a moment. He scratched at his hair, bit his lip, and looked away, his eyes landing on the flailing game of charades again. “So... anyway.”

“Yeah. Erm.” Mark’s gorgeous blush was still in place when Nicky dared to look. “Sorry about that. Y’know. New carpet. Don’t think there’s a warranty for vomit stains.” He laughed slightly, and then tilted his head. Nicky had an abrupt sense of being studied, and he smiled cautiously back, trying to decipher the look in Mark’s eyes.

“What?”

“Are you okay? I mean...” Mark shrugged. “It’s Christmas, and you don’t look real happy. Or you’re quiet. Or whatever. I just thought I’d ask. You know, nothing to lose by it, and I though if something was up, you might like to talk. If there’s something the matter. Or if there’s not. You don’t have to.” He faltered, and Nicky let his features soften, not sure when they had hardened. He felt a little bit angry that the only person in the room that didn’t seem to know what was going on was Mark, but the overwhelming rush of loneliness mostly blocked that out, and he bit his lip, trying not to just shout at him. Or cry. Or something.

“I’m fine.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Fine. Why shouldn’t I be?” Nicky forced his hackles down as soon as they started to rise. Now was not the time for a tantrum.

“I... I dunno. It’s fine. Forget I asked.” Mark looked stung. Nicky wanted to kiss him better. “I’ll just go see if anyone wants a drink.” He began to leave, crossing back to the kitchen, but Nicky reached out a hand to stop him, laying it gently on his arm and feeling solid muscle flex tensely.

"Mark? I’m sorry.” Mark turned back, looking expectant. “It’s not your fault. I’m just in a mood, right? It’ll wear off.”

“Okay.” Mark’s eyes were shining again, filled with that bloody Christmas spirit. He grinned slowly, the dimples reappearing and lighting up his whole face. Nicky smiled back. “That’s alright then. But if you want to talk...” Nicky nodded.

“I know, mate. Thanks. I will.” He removed his hand from Mark’s arm, realising that it was still planted there. “You’re class, you know?”

“Oh, ehm.” Mark looked quite pleased, his cheeks reddening slightly and making him glow, and in that instant, Nicky couldn’t hate him. No matter the situation Nicky was forcing between them, Mark was still a fantastic friend. “Yeah, well. You too.” His face was nearly breaking under the grin. “Do you want a drink?”

“I’d love one.” Nicky replied softly, touching Mark’s elbow, just for the hell of it. Best to do it while Mark was still distracted by the compliment and not analysing anything too much. “What have you got?”

“Uh...” Mark looked at the ceiling. Apparently there was a drinks menu written on it. “Uh... there’s Jack Daniels, and about four kinds of beer, and I’m pretty sure there’s some red wine at the back of the cupboard. There’s champagne, but that’s for later. Some girly, sugary drinks... ehm...” He blinked, and looked back at Nicky. “Look, do you want to just look through the fridge? It’s probably easier.”

“Thanks.” Nicky took his hand away again, letting it trail down Mark’s arm and trying not to shudder at the feeling of the soft dark hairs poking out of the end of his sleeves. It was Mark’s nice blue shirt too, the one that made his eyes sparkle. Nicky turned away, not wanting to get drawn in. Not now. “Are you having a good Christmas?” He asked, stepping through the kitchen door and crouching down to look in the fridge.

“It’s okay.” Nicky heard him pulling cling film off a plate on the other side of the room, and twisted his head to look at him. Mark was facing the other way. The view of the back was far from bad, of course, but right at that moment all Nicky wanted was to look into those big smiling eyes of his. But again, this was not the time.

“Just okay?” Nicky picked up a beer and crossed the kitchen, leaning back against the bench while he opened it, Mark’s warm side mere inches away. “What about the Christmas spirit and all that?”

“Oh, well. You know. It’s a bit hectic this year, so I haven’t really had a chance to enjoy it yet.” Mark licked some dip off his thumb, it having been smeared there when he ripped the foil lid off the container. “You know. With the new house, and the party... it’s all just been a bit overwhelming.” He shrugged. “And my family’s not at home this year, so I dunno...” He paused, putting the dip on the plate and opening a packet of crackers, starting to arrange them around the container. “Normally I go up and see them. But I guess that’s out this year. I’ll see them after, though. When they get back from the cruise.”

“Yeah.” Nicky murmured, seeing the younger boy’s eyes go slightly misty. They stood in silence for a moment, Nicky’s hand somehow having landed on Mark’s shoulder without him noticing it. He squeezed and let go. Suddenly, Mark’s face broke into an enormous grin, but you’d have to be a complete stranger not to notice that it didn’t quite reach his eyes. And Nicky was anything but. He was practically Mark’s personal stalker. “Look.” He smiled tentatively. “Ehm... would you like me to hang around maybe? After everyone goes home? Mam and Dad aren’t expecting me until lunch tomorrow, and I could help you clean up? I could sleep in a spare room or something, if you’d like someone here, to... y’know... keep you company. If you like...” His voice faltered and died under the thumping of his own heart, and he began to play with the hem of his shirt to distract himself from the heavy silence emanating from beside him.

“Nicky.” Mark’s voice was hesitant. Nicky couldn’t look. “Um.” The plate scraped off the counter, and Nicky watched it float past his field of vision as Mark began to move past him towards the door. “That’d be really great.” Mark’s voice was so soft Nicky barely heard it, but it made his face fill with heat at the husky gratitude there. “Thank you.”

Nicky nodded dumbly, his hands going to his burning face once Mark was out of the room. Feeling his legs give, he slid down the side of the counter, resting his cheeks to his knees and giggling to himself, voice rebounding off the walls of the empty kitchen. He swore quietly to himself, waiting for the bones to grow back in his legs.

He needed a pee.

Staggering to his feet again was made more difficult when he heard Mark laugh from the next room, and with an iron grip on the counter and few nasal grunts, he finally managed it without going arse over. His beer sloshed a couple of times, but there was enough left to slog down really really fast without looking pitiful. The bottle thunked onto the sink.

Shit fuck and god damn, he couldn’t have suggested what he thought he’d suggested, could he?

Glancing at the clock on the way past, he noted the late hour. Way past midnight. Headed for three am. A couple of the older partiers were making their way for the door, and the number of revellers had dropped a little since he’d entered the kitchen. Probably headed home to wait for Santa, or on to other parties. Considering the fact that he had a family lunch the next day, Nicky knew he should probably get some sleep too, but he’d promised Mark he’d stay. He wasn’t sure if that was an excuse to stay up late, or if it would be too painful to imagine.

He swiped another drink off the table when he came back out, and downed it very quickly, feeling his head swim, hoping he could block it out.

It was another hour before Kian and Shane – the very last guests – were forcibly evicted from the house, Nicky helping Mark shove the two of them onto the front step, while trying not to be put off by their loud rendition of Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer. For once, Kian was the better singer, and Nicky watched them through the window as they staggered slowly down the path, awkwardly propping each other up.

“Are they still in the drive?” Mark’s voice startled him a few minutes later, and Nicky jumped. Admittedly, his gaze had slid away from the two other Westlifers and was hazily fixed on the Christmas lights across the street, while he tried to clear his muddled head.

Kian was sat in the driveway now, Shane crouched down next to him. Both were apparently enjoying themselves: Nicky could hear them laughing through the windowpane. But as they watched, Kian reached out, tugging Shane forward until their lips touched in a messy, yet surprisingly tender, kiss.

“Huh.” Mark murmured, and Nicky felt himself glow when Shane tugged Kian to his feet again, dropping a kiss on his hair. They looked at each other for a moment, figures silhouetted against the snow and Christmas lights, and Nicky could have sworn he saw Kian’s mouth form an ‘I love you’. Shane pulled him into a gentle hug. Nicky couldn’t see what he was saying, but when they drew apart again, their hands were joined between them and, as they began to finally walk down the path, they didn’t part again.

There was silence for a moment; Nicky was too embarrassed at the tears pricking his eyes to turn around. Shane had found love again, that much was obvious. So where was he in all this? Stuck between a past love and an unrequited one. Nowhere. He shut his eyes, pressing his forehead against the cool glass.

“Wow.” He murmured. Mark’s hand squeezed his shoulder.

“I’ve made up the spare room for you.”

“Yeah.” Nicky murmured, trying desperately to keep his voice steady. “Thanks.”

“That’s fine. You tired?”

Nicky let out a deep sigh. “Yeah.” He replied honestly. “I am.

“You go to bed then. I’ll clean up.”

“No, no. I promised I’d help.” He grudgingly pushed himself away from the window. “What do you want me to do?”

“It’s either vacuum duty or picking up all the dishes and things.” Mark smirked. “You can choose cos you’re the guest.”

“Oh, thanks.” Nicky laughed, pushing him lightly. “I’ll take the vacuum.”

It didn’t take as long as Nicky had originally thought, considering the state of the place. Mark was humming softly under his breath, Nicky finally heard it when the vacuum was switched off, the roaring sputtering away, and Nicky stood and stared for a moment, just watching Mark move around the room. It was almost aimless, like he was floating, but there was still a single-minded purpose to it. And when Mark bent to pick up an upside down plate from the coffee table, Nicky had to look away to keep from embarrassing himself. Mark looked up with a grimace.

“Can you get the cloth? There’s dip all over the table from this fucking plate.” He brandished it slightly at Nicky, who ducked into the kitchen to retrieve the cloth, beginning to follow Mark about and mopping the surfaces as the debris was removed from them. They worked in a comfortable silence, Nicky occasionally glancing at Mark and trying to look casual about it, instead of pathetically adoring. Why, he thought, couldn’t it always be like this? Him and Mark, the comfort, the perfect solitude. It was just he and Mark in the house, that was starkly evident, and his mind tripped back to what Shane had said about offering something to pass the lonely night. The thought made Nicky feel ill. But, still, there was nothing to stop him from doing it, was there? From making his move? He certainly had nothing else to go back to, why not look to the future? What would be so wrong with that?

Mark smiled at him, a small, friendly grin through the flashing pinkness of a feather duster. Perfect, so utterly perfect. Like heaven, something Nicky couldn’t mess with no matter what. Because Mark was perfect, and Nicky couldn’t risk that through some silly unreturned crush. Never in a million years. It had taken long enough to regroup after his and Shane’s parting, what the hell would happen if it was actually love? Nicky shook his head, and smiled back.

They were taking down streamers now, Mark moving the ladder, Nicky dashing up it, grabbing the crepe paper, and then binning it while the ladder was moved to the next port of call. It wasn’t too hard, and there was the added joy of Mark’s hands steadying his hips, sending warmth humming through his body.

“Up you go. Again.” Mark grinned, holding out the ladder for Nicky, who smiled back, accidentally on purpose steadying himself on Mark’s shoulder while he climbed, groping carefully for the tape that held the streamer to the ceiling. Suddenly, there was a jolt, and he flailed for one sickening moment before resting his other hand on Mark’s shoulder, waiting til his stomach stopped churning.

“You okay?” Mark’s hands squeezed Nicky’s waist. Nicky nodded. “Sorry.”

“That’s… okay…” Nicky stammered, slowly raising up again and swiping for the fastening on the streamers. “I can’t reach it.”

“That’s because you’re so bloody short.” Mark smirked at him, and they switched places, Mark climbing the ladder and groping for the streamers, grinning triumphantly when they came away from the ceiling, fluttering to the floor. Something swung above Mark’s head. Nicky noticed, and he pointed.

“What’s that?”

“Huh…?” Mark looked around. “ _That’s_ where I put the mistletoe! I was beginning to wonder whether I’d been hallucinating putting it up in the first place. It must have been caught behind the streamer.” He laughed. “Imagine the people that should’ve kissed. I was probably under it with… with Kian or someone.” He frowned contemplatively. “Thank god I didn’t notice, come to think of it.”

Nicky laughed, feeling the ladder tremble slightly while Mark snatched the mistletoe out of the air. He held on tightly, not wanting Mark to fall, and only released his grip when the younger boy was safely back on the ground again.

“Oh well, seemed like enough people were snogging tonight. Probably didn’t need any more.” Mark shoved the mistletoe into the garbage bag along with the streamers, and Nicky watched it go a little forlornly, remembering the countless times he had walked under this exact spot that night, talking to Mark. Mark turned, smiling shyly at him.

Then Mark’s lips were on his and Nicky froze, not sure what to do, and not given enough time to react before it was all over. Mark pulled back, the quick peck still stinging at Nicky’s mouth, and leant over to tie the garbage bag closed, humming blithely. Nicky stared.

“What was that for?”

Mark laughed, picking up the bag and slinging it over his shoulder like Santa Claus. God, how festive could you get?

“For the mistletoe. That we were under. So we should have kissed.”

Nicky nodded numbly, and looked away. “Right.” Mark leant the bag next to the piano, then came back, slinging his arm around Nicky’s shoulder.

“That’ll do for now, I reckon. I’ll put the bag in the bin when I see you off tomorrow. I’m not going out in that.” He gestured to the window, where the snow was falling faster now, wind rattling the windowpanes. Nicky stared at it, his eyes not really seeing anything with Mark so distractingly close. “Come on, I’ll show you your room.”

Mark’s spare room was lovely. The goose-down pillows were like sinking into soft, crisp snow, the pale blue duvet cocooning him in a delicate, woollen warmth. There was even a gorgeous little en suite. And Mark had four of these rooms! Curled up, alone, in the dark, Nicky wondered how Mark could stand to be alone by himself in such an enormous house. It felt so lonely and empty, separated slightly from the town by a little grove of trees, the polished shine on the floors suddenly empty and eerie. Nicky felt cold. He wondered if Mark ever felt the same.

He switched on the little lamp next to his bed, blinking in the artificial light, and used it as a guide to stagger to the bathroom. He squinted at himself in the mirror, not liking his pale face and mussed hair one bit, then turned to use the toilet.

“ _Ohhh…”_

Nicky jumped at the soft, husky voice that echoed from somewhere to his left, and spun to face it, blinking in confusion when he was met with nothing but a blank wall. He could have sworn he’d heard…

“… _nggg… ah…”_

There it was again! Faint, and almost obscured by the lazy hum of the thermostat, but definitely there. Creeping closer to the wall, Nicky pressed his ear against cold tiles. There it was again.

“ _Oh…”_

The room right next door belonged to the only other occupant of the house… unless there was some sort of burglar creeping around having nightmares in Mark’s room. Shaking his head, Nicky made a beeline for the hall, unable to push away the choking feeling of dread that Mark might need his help. It was irrational, obviously, Mark probably had nightmares every now and then, everyone did, but love was completely irrational as well, and Nicky was well and truly mired in that.

Mark was thrashing slightly in his bed, Nicky could see a lump moving erratically under the duvet in the scarce light filtering in from the hall. Keeping his eye to the small crack between the frame and door, Nicky reached for the doorknob, slowly pushing it in towards the bedroom. Mark froze, suddenly, and Nicky did the same, the widening fan of light catching on Mark’s hair.

“Mark?” Nicky called tentatively, padding hesitantly into the room, gaze fixed on the breathing bundle of blankets. Mark muttered something to himself, and Nicky slunk closer, peering around the other side, trying to see if he could see Mark’s face.

Two eyes stared back at him.

“Shit!” Nicky jumped back, surprised. Mark licked his lips, a livid flush painting his cheeks, and looked away. Nicky attempted a small wave. “Uh… hi.”

“Um.” Mark said. “What are you doing in here?”

“I uh, thought I heard you having a nightmare. So I thought I’d… Uh.” Nicky trailed off, his face flushing redder than Mark’s when he finally realised that the shape of Mark under the blankets was not at all ambiguous, and the heavy glaze in his eyes was definitely not caused by drowsiness. A sharp spike of embarrassment and lust ran through Nicky’s body, and he stepped back. Mark looked down at himself, and groaned, tangling the blankets around the front of his body so they hid… um...

“Fuck.”

Nicky giggled, unable to help it. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” Mark mumbled, shrinking down further into the blankets. Nicky laughed, stepping closer again. Mark glared at him over the top of the duvet, watching Nicky move closer and closer to the bed. The trip seemed to take forever, and when Nicky finally sat with a deep, tense sigh, his heart was thrumming against the inside of his chest, threatening to burst free of his ribs and wing its way out the frosty, snow-caked window. Mark stared up, his eyes swirling with confusion and barely diminished need.

“Mark, I…” Nicky swallowed. What could he say? I want to feel your cock in my hand so much it makes my palm itch? I wish I’d known what you were doing so I could watch you? I think you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever met?

I want you to call my name when you come? I want to cuddle with you afterwards? I want you to kiss me like I’m the only one in the world?

I love you?

The battle between love and lust raged silently inside his head, and still Mark was fixing him with that silent, embarrassed stare. The moment couldn’t have lasted more than three seconds. Certainly not enough time for Mark to react. But in those few instances, Nicky knew what he needed. It wasn’t what he wanted, certainly… but in a way, it was. It was Mark. He just needed Mark. He wanted Mark. Mark was everything.

His voice cracking on a deep, shuddering sigh, he leant forward, glancing at Mark’s frozen, apprehensive face as he drew nearer. And then their lips were brushing. It was barely a kiss, just a momentary touch of skin to skin. But then, oh, Mark was kissing him back, his hand coming out from under the blankets to tangle gently through Nicky’s hair, mouth opening and angling to allow Nicky tentative entrance.

Their tongues touched carefully, Nicky suddenly dizzy at the exhilarating sensation of Mark’s mouth pressing to his. Mark made a little noise in his throat. Nicky had to stop himself from leaping on him.

Instead, he lifted his hands, framing Mark’s face and feeling his whole being lurch when hands wrapped around his hips, tugging him until he was straddling Mark, his knees pinning the blankets between them, the sturdy weight of Mark’s unrelieved cock pressing up into him. He moaned, the noise stark and embarrassing. Mark grabbed him tighter, one hand already making for the back of his t-shirt. Gentle, tentative fingers brushed fire against his skin, trailing over the light hairs on his back uncertainly. Nicky sat up and pulled the shirt off.

“I want you.” He muttered, ducking down again and forcing his lips hard over Mark’s, this time savouring the uncoordinated sting of teeth. Pain didn’t matter, it was translating to pleasure easily. The way Mark was arching under him was enough to see to that. After a long, hot, sloppy moment of frantic kissing, Mark’s head dropped back to the pillow, Nicky able to feel throbbing heat pressing against his arse through the blanket.

“What’s brought this on?” Mark panted through parted lips, yelping happily when Nicky gave into his urge to grind down, his own cock already heavy against his belly.

“I just…” Nicky trailed off into a grunt, his head spinning with confusion and need. Mark’s fingers carded through his hair again, the other hand moving to Nicky’s waist and grinding them hard together, controlling Nicky’s movement. “I just wanted… you… needed…”

What Mark said next was probably “why?” but it was broken off by the most deliciously needy cry Nicky had ever heard. His entire body bucked upwards off the bed, hand dropping away from Nicky’s hair and moving to shove the duvet down to his own waist. Nicky dizzily watched as hairy flesh bared itself and felt his mouth flood with moisture.

“Why?” Mark said again, tugging Nicky down until their chests pressed together, Nicky still rocking on his groin. Mark’s skin was sweaty, and tasted delicious under Nicky’s tongue when he licked with a long, quick slide up to his ear that made Mark whimper and grapple at the sheets, so close.

“Cos I… I love you.” Nicky breathed silently, gasping with sudden lust when he felt heat flood underneath him, caught by the duvet but still able to burn a hot brand into his flesh for a split moment. He came torturously, seeing only Mark’s face, contorted in sudden ecstasy, and feeling only the hot splash of his own come on his belly and the loosening grip on his hair.

“You… oh… that was…” Nicky mumbled a few minutes later, rolling slowly with the constant heaving of Mark’s chest. There was a choked laugh from beneath him, and when he looked up, Mark was smiling a small, silly grin that made Nicky’s heart back-flip over itself.

“So good.” Mark finished for him, his voice thick and hoarse with exertion. “So needed that.”

Nicky tried to speak. Tried to think. But suddenly the truth had finally dawned on him, pounded into his brain with a few simple words. Nicky was a fuck, it was that simple. He was someone that just happened to be there, willing to give Mark relief from an apparent drought. He should have known. Mark had never given any indication to the contrary. Voice caught in his throat, he sat up, crawling away. Mark looked at him.

“What?”

“I just, I thought… I shouldn’t have…” Stupid, Nicky, he berated himself. Stupid. Had the last few minutes been worth it, just to end up with a broken heart?

He was terrified to think they might have been.

Mark reached out a hand, touching his arm, and as he did the blankets fell away, revealing more and more of that wonderful, soft flesh that Nicky had always wanted to feel under his hands, always wanted to stroke and touch and tease. He’d gotten what he’d wanted, that was for sure.

“I… I’m gonna go.”

“Why? Stay. You might as well.” Mark’s face twisted in confusion. He held out a hand, fingers curling around Nicky’s elbow. Nicky looked away. “Nix?”

“I can’t do this now.” Nicky muttered, tearing himself angrily from Mark’s grip and staggering off the bed. He stumbled to the door in the dark, Mark’s gaze blazing on the back of his neck. Then he shut the door behind him.

Breathing into the dark silence of the spare room, Nicky finally let a little sob escape, the despair and hurt welling up in his throat and making his chest ache, a tear sliding down his nose. Shane had been right… Mark had been more than willing to accept a shag. But Nicky had been right when he said he couldn’t do casual sex, not with Mark. The feeling of shame and insignificance encased him, weighting him to the floor where he huddled against the door, sobbing quiet tears of loneliness into his bent-up knees.

It had been so so good, that fact couldn’t be denied. But the empty look in Mark’s eyes, the one that had said that Nicky could be anybody, cut deeper than a knife into his soul. All he’d wanted in the past few months, all he’d been able to get by on, was the thought that one day Mark might return his feelings. That his feelings weren’t completely useless and invalidated. That those little touches and hugs that Mark gave him from time to time were the hint of something more.

Were they, bollocks.

“Nicky?”

Footsteps turned into a knock at his door, and Nicky shook his head against the wood, trying to wipe his face with one trembling hand. Mark knocked again.

“Nick? What’s up? What did I do?”

Nicky shook his head again, wondering whether Mark had cleaned himself up yet, whether he’d still be coated in Nicky’s seed. Whether that hot glaze in his eyes was gone, all those memories of what Mark looked like when he came branded in them. It had been beautiful, the soft parting of Mark lips, the hard arch of his back, the sweat beading on his forehead and dripping over his closed eyes. Nicky shuddered. He didn’t need this now.

“Nicky?”

“Go away.” Nicky croaked. There was tense silence from the other side of the door.

“No.” Mark said finally, his words cautious but determined. “Let me in.”

“No.”

“Oh for god’s…” Mark muttered, and Nicky heard him walk away. He breathed a sigh of relief. Then there was a metallic jangle, and the footsteps came back. Something twisted in the lock near Nicky’s ear, the key there dropping out onto his side as it was replaced on the other side. Nicky pushed against the door, knowing it was useless. Mark pushed back.

“Go away!”

“No. It’s my house. You go away.” Mark groaned, shoving back. Scowling, Nicky stepped away, glaring when Mark stumbled into the room in his boxer shorts, the door slamming hard into the wall. Staggering upright, Mark peered around, sighing with relief when he saw that the wall behind the door was unharmed. Then he turned a glare on Nicky.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“You’re what’s wrong with me!” Nicky yelled back. “Leave me alone!” He stalked over to the bed and climbed in, yanking the blankets over his head and curling into a protective ball, hands between his knees, the crust of come on his chest crackling against itself. Something heavy tipped the edge of the mattress.

“Nicky?” Gentle weight landed tentatively near his shoulder. Nicky let out a soft sob into the blankets. The hand caressed his arm. “Nicky, mate. What’s up? I thought you…” Mark trailed off. “That… what happened… it won’t change anything. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

Nicky nodded. He knew. That was the problem.

Mark’s body wrapped around his, holding both Nicky and the blankets against him. A hand pressed against his stomach, another one insinuated itself under his neck. His body traitorously pressed back into the touch, Mark’s warmth burning deliciously through the cool covers.

They lay like that for a long moment. Then he saw light as Mark’s fingers gently pulled down the blankets covering Nicky’s face. Mark peered back at him.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Nicky scrubbed his tearstained face with one hand, grimacing awkwardly back. Mark’s fingers ran through his hair, tickling comfortingly. “Sorry.”

“For what?” Mark pursed his lips. “What just happened?”

“You… I…” Nicky swallowed. “Oh, fuck it. You were there.”

Mark shook his head on small chuckle. “No, not that. After.” He glanced questioningly at Nicky. “I’m totally confused, you know that?”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t want to talk about it.” Nicky paused. “It’s not you.”

“Well, that’s good to know.” Mark smiled, pressing a soft kiss to Nicky’s forehead. “But wanna tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“No.”

“Okay. Want me to stay?”

Nicky was about to say no, that he didn’t, in fact. But he felt so lonely, alone in his bed, and the idea of Mark like that in the other room tugged painfully at his heart. It would be painful Mark being here. It would be more painful for him not to be. It wasn’t like Nicky was going to be sleeping anyway.

He nodded.

Mark nodded back, untangling the blankets from Nicky’s body and sliding underneath, his arms holding out for Nicky. Nicky went willingly, arms hooking around Mark’s neck while Mark’s grip alighted on his waist, tugging him against his soft, hairy body. Forgetting totally that he was naked, Nicky wrapped his leg around Mark’s waist, feeling the cotton of Mark’s boxers brush his naked skin. Mark kept stroking his hair for long, long minutes.

Mark dropped off enviously easily, his grip on Nicky loosening slightly, breathing evening out into soft, slow movements that rocked Nicky soothingly. He made a little noise in his sleep, lips smacking together. Nicky looked up, watching him.

“God.” He muttered to himself. “It’s not fair.” Mark didn’t move, dead to the world. Nicky put a hand to his chest, fingers stroking softly curled hair and feeling the yielding press of a flat nipple under his hand.

“Marky. God.” He whispered. “I love you so much.” A tear dripped down his nose, falling onto a curved belly and beading on the tip of one of the hairs leading under the blankets, to where Mark was soft against Nicky’s leg. “It isn’t fair.”

“You have no idea what it’s like, needing you so much.” He continued hesitantly. This was his time, his chance to tell Mark how he felt, even if Mark couldn’t hear him. “I thought I needed Shane like that when we were together. But this… is so much more than that ever was. And you never even notice it, do you? I hate you for that sometimes. I just want to yell at you to look at me, and notice that I…” He faltered, another tear dripping down his nose. “But you don’t even… I was just a… a… fuck. I know I was. And I thought I could live with that, because I just need you so much that I needed… I wanted… I just wanted you for a few moments. I just wanted that. But I didn’t get you. I could’ve been anyone. I could’ve been… I could’ve been some stranger the way you looked at me. And I can’t be…” Shaking his head, he bent back down to lay on Mark’s chest again, snuggling carefully into his side. It was bloody pointless, doing this. Mark couldn’t hear him, and Nicky would never be able to tell him. Not properly.

“I love you.” He whispered after a moment, trying to explain himself to the still sleeping Mark. “I just wanted to tell you. Even if you never hear me.”

There wasn’t a single movement from the slumbering body next to him. Nicky didn’t know if he felt relieved or disappointed… if he’d wanted Mark to wake and smile at him and say he loved Nicky too, and that he could never be just a fuck. But he didn’t wake, and Nicky supposed he should feel grateful.

He lay down beside Mark, pushing into a heavy, unresponsive embrace and feeling the uselessness in it. Mark didn’t love him… he never would.

Suddenly, Mark moved. A hand ran through his hair, and Nicky shut his eyes in terror. Mark couldn’t have heard him. He’d been fast asleep! Nicky had been sure of it!

“Nicky?” Mark mumbled softly, his arms loosening for a horrible moment, then tightening again. Nicky pressed his face into Mark’s neck, trying to hide the emotions he was sure were apparent. Mark’s arms loosened again, a soft gasp running through Mark’s body. “Nicky? Are you okay? You’re crying…”

I’m fine.” Nicky replied, scrubbing his face with the back of his hand. A hand captured his chin, tilting his face up, and he avoided the curious gaze of startlingly blue eyes, refusing to look up lest he be captured. Mark had a way of doing that. Nicky didn’t want to be captured – he wanted to be left alone to wallow in his misery.

“Nix…” Mark sighed. “Come on, you can’t keep doing this to yourself! Something’s wrong and I worry about you.”

“Why?” Nicky asked. “Why do you worry about me? You don’t give a shit about me!”

“Of course I do! Nicky…” Mark sounded groggy and sleepy, not with it quite enough to respond to Nicky’s outbursts as well as he usually did, and Nicky was kind of glad. Fuck Mark and his calmness and unassuming smiles. Fuck him. “I love you.”

“No you don’t!” Nicky burst out, shoving away. “You don’t love me so just… fuck you! I don’t even care any more!”

“Care about what?” Mark asked, rubbing his eyes and looking confused. “What are you on about?”

“You don’t love me.” Nicky breathed, not sure what made him say these things so readily, after so long spend hiding them. All he knew was that he was sick of this. Sick of dancing around Mark, sick of being miserable… sick of fucking LOVE.

“I do. Nicky, you’re…”

“I’m your best friend. I get it.” Nicky snarled, backing further away, feeling a scowl stretch his face, feeling anger bubble up in a raging torrent of boiling madness. “So fuck you.”

“Nicky…?” Mark asked, his eyes clearing as a dreadful realisation sit in. Nicky watched it sink into Mark’s features, heavy and real, and wished that there was some way he could pull it back, take back his words, even though they had become as unstoppable at the tide. Mark blinked heavily, his mouth gaping in shock.

“I’m sorry.” Nicky forced out from behind tears and dismay. “I shouldn’t have said that. Ignore it.”

“I… I’m sorry.” Mark said quietly, looking up at Nicky and reaching out a hand. Nicky dodged it, not able to bear Mark’s touch on his skin. “Nicky, I… I didn’t know…”

“Isn’t your fault.” Nicky muttered back. “I didn’t mean for you to know.”

“I’m sorry.” Mark bit his lip, supporting himself on one arm while the other hand reached up to stroke Nicky’s face, trailing over his lips and down his throat. Nicky resisted two urges at the same time: both the urge to move away and the urge to purr and lean in. “I’d be mad if I said I didn’t fancy you, if I said I couldn’t feel more for you than that. But it’s not love. Not yet.”

Nicky nodded silently, feeling properly sorry for himself. Mark was good at rejections, Nicky would give him that. Then he balked.

“Erm… not yet?”

Mark shifted. “Well. I mean. Y’know.” He glanced up, eyes dancing cautiously. “I mean. There’s no reason we couldn’t, yeah?”

“Couldn’t what?” Nicky needed him to say every word. He needed to know for sure that his heart wasn’t thudding against the inside of his chest for no reason. “Marky?”

“Well, I mean we’re good in bed together. We know that already.” A sly smirk crossed Mark’s face. Nicky couldn’t help but grin back, a little sheepish smirk that tugged at his mouth. Mark’s fingers played with his, a sheepish, nervous little smirk dancing on his mouth, making Nicky smile even more, even though his stomach felt sick. “So uh… if you wanted to give it a go. We could. Maybe.”

“I don’t want you feeling like you have to.”

“I don’t. If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t.” Mark replied, eyes reflecting so much pure honesty it was painful. “You okay?”

Nicky nodded, wiping away the tears that had suddenly appeared on his cheeks. “Yeah.” He swallowed back the next round of tears. “I’m fantastic.” Mark chuckled. “I don’t want you feeling awkward because I’m so into you and you’re not…”

“I’m sure I’ll catch up eventually.” Mark giggled. “Come to think of it, I don’t mind. A bit of worship’s nice.”

“Who said anything about worship, you arrogant git? You get enough from the fans.” Mark laughed, ducking his head to kiss Nicky. Nicky kissed back, unable to believe that he was allowed. “You sure?” He mumbled when Mark finally pulled away.

“Sure. Why not?” Mark smiled back gently. Nicky grinned. “You worship me.”

“I fucking do. I know.” Nicky admitted quietly.

“Cool.” Mark smiled, laying back down beside Nicky and gathering him into his arms, body wrapping comfortably around Nicky’s. “Night Nix.”

“It’s almost dawn.”

“I know. But I’m tired, and you need to go to your parents’ tomorrow. You need to sleep.”

“Okay.” Nicky nodded blankly, the idea that he had what he wanted still not dawning on him, still drifting above him like a strange dream. This twist of events was too surreal, too sudden. He didn’t know how to feel or think or say what he wanted, so he just settled into Mark’s arms, his mind a rosy blank.

“I love you.” Nicky whispered.

“I know.” Mark replied, snuggling them together. “Hey, Nix?”

“Yeah?"

Mark grinned. “Do I still have to get you a Christmas present, then?”


End file.
